


from bad to worse

by risquetendencies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Domesticity, Established Relationship, M/M, Short One Shot, Supportive Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 07:30:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13290036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risquetendencies/pseuds/risquetendencies
Summary: Kenma has a plan for his bad days. He knows what works for him. But on this particular day, he's not going to be able to follow that plan.





	from bad to worse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kilzom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kilzom/gifts).



The instant he makes it home, Kenma lets out a sigh he swears he's been holding in since he went out that morning. Tipping his head back against the door, he takes time to focus on his breathing. Four seconds in, hold it in for four, and then four more as he blows the air out. He repeats the process a couple of times until he's satisfied with the way the tightness in his chest has lightened up.

Going out at all today had been a struggle. But he'd had no alternative, given that two members of his team were already out sick.

Without him there, the tickets would have piled up to an unreasonable number. That would have gotten the attention of his supervisor, and somehow, some way, the blame would have found its way back to him the next day. It usually did, on the rare occasions that work spiraled out of his control enough to cause a problem. He would have had to listen to an angry rant by the guy over his lunch break, and the day would have gone from unpleasant to unbearable. It probably would have ended with Kenma hiding out in the restroom for the final moments of his shift, simply to get a minute without his supervisor breathing down his neck.

All hypothetical, but he's sure he's not far off in assuming that how things would have gone if he'd called in sick, too.

Assuming, that is, that he could have gotten the time off. Faking illness isn't a strength of his, and mental health days don't have a precedent in the company. Or in most of Japan, Kenma notes as he kicks off his shoes.

He hears jingling, and then the youngest cat, a tabby, is rounding the corner to come and greet him. Kenma watches as she trots up to sniff his socks, making a faint “ _Mrr?”_  as she deems whether he’s acceptable or not. When she stops in one spot, he bends down, stroking between her ears. He doesn’t feel like settling down to let her camp out on him, so it’s the least he can do for now.

Standing again, he puts away his coat and bookbag almost mechanically. He’s starting to feel tense again, in the urgent way that he’s trained himself only to feel when he can actually do something about it. These days, he can mostly hold it in when he’s in public, just as long as he can decompress later.

All he wants to do right now is head straight to his bedroom, get into the same pajamas he wore last night, and play something simple on the PSP until his brain flatlines.

From the other room, he can hear pots being moved around on the stove, so he knows Kuroo’s making dinner. If he hears him go straight to the bedroom, though, Kuroo will understand. They’ve practically developed a code by now between them. He’ll save a plate for later, and Kenma might eat it.

More accurately, he’ll eat some, but not all, of whatever it is. And that will be after an intervention by his pestering other half. But at least that intervention will be after he’s had time to let off some steam. Kuroo knows how much and when to push stuff.

Kenma guesses he’s lucky. Their relationship is the only piece of his life where things just flow, and he doesn’t have to change himself to fit.

Content with his plan, Kenma makes the short walk to his room.

From there it's routine. Discard his work clothes on the floor, pick up the day old pajamas from where they're slung over the edge of the bed and put those on instead. Fluff the pillows on the bed, and pull back the covers. Choose a game from his collection, and get his PSP from where it's charging on the bedside table.

Only, there's a hitch. It isn't charging. It isn't even there.

Kenma grimaces, and sets to the task of looking around the room. It's a small bedroom, so there isn't much to search. The bed takes up most of the space as it is, and there's only room for a dresser and two small, rickety tables on either side of the bed. For good measure, he even ducks down to check under the bed, but comes up with nothing. It makes his grimace progress to a full blown frown.

He's going to have to venture out. Exactly what he didn't want to do.

Huffing, Kenma retraces his earlier steps, and goes a little further, stalking into the kitchen. His attitude is bubbling hot beneath the surface, and he knows it has to be showing on his face. This is confirmed when Kuroo gets a look at him, and cracks a weak smile.

"Hey~"

Kenma cuts to the chase.

"Have you seen my PSP?"

Immediately, the smile drops, and Kuroo turns back to the stove, hastily stirring what he's cooking. Whatever appetite Kenma might have had for it dies. That can't be a good sign, but how bad is it? He guesses he'll have to wait and find out.

"Well, I was cleaning up this place earlier, and I thought I'd do some laundry. It was starting to pile up after all, and today I had some time so it was a good time to get it done. If I let it go any longer, then it'll be a pain..."

Kenma's eyes narrow. Kuroo rambling, something he only does when he's nervous or excited, is definitely not a good sign.

"Spit it out."

He's not in the mood for rambling, or anything really, so the words come out harsh. Still, to his credit, Kuroo doesn't flinch.

"It was under a bunch of clothes you left on the floor. When I was picking everything up, I accidentally stepped on it. The screen's cracked, and it won't turn on.... Sorry."

Kenma bites down on his lip hard. His eyes flicker side to side as his brain tries to process the news. At first, all he can feel is disbelief. If it was with his clothes, he must have left it in one of his pockets. How could he have been that careless? He always remembers to take it out to charge it. Usually, Kenma amends. But not this one time, it seems.

And then Kuroo goes and ruins it.

Kenma's jaw unclenches, and he lets out a frustrated breath.

Sparing one last charged glance at his boyfriend, he walks away. He doesn't have it in him to say anything more.

 

* * *

 

" _Mrrr- mrr?"_  is the first thing he hears, more than an hour later. He only knows it's that long from his infrequent glances toward the alarm clock by the bed. Otherwise, he's been staring at the same spot on the ceiling the rest of the time.

Instants later, he hears a soft weight land on the bed beside him, and the tabby butts her head against his hip. She continues that for a while, and Kenma lays still, brain too frozen to respond. Eventually, the cat settles down against his side, tail flicking slowly back and forth. She purrs quietly, and part of him melts a little at the relaxing noises. Not enough to do anything, but enough to tear his eyes away from the ceiling, at least.

A few more minutes pass this way until there's a knock on the bedroom door. And then it creaks open.

"Kenma?"

Sluggishly, he props himself up enough to see Kuroo standing in the doorway. His face is sporting the kind of forcedly composed expression that tells him why Kuroo is here in one look.

"Can I come in?"

Kenma nods, and then eases himself back against the headboard. Kuroo walks into the room and tentatively takes a seat on the side of the bed. 

Truthfully, he knows what happened isn't Kuroo's fault. He feels less mad than he did before because he knows the only one he should be upset with is himself. He's the one who left the PSP where he did, where harm could easily befall it. The fact that it had broken because of his carelessness is a bitter pill to swallow, but Kenma is trying. He'd really needed to play it, after the day he'd had at work today. 

"Hey, so... I found some stuff for you, if you want," Kuroo begins, making eye contact. Kenma shrugs that off almost right away, but he nods for him to keep talking.

"There's some online games that seem kind of similar to what you like to play... on days like this. You could play them on my laptop, and I could leave you alone. Or! There's a big cat documentary on the streaming thing. We could watch it. You kind of like those ones, right? This one isn't too science-y, I don't think. Didn't seem that way in the description."

Another piece of the ice inside him chips away, and he feels several degrees warmer.

It seems like this whole time, Kuroo must have been thinking of alternatives. What he could do to make this situation work for Kenma, given that his usual escape route was unavailable. Kenma's not sure why he's surprised, but he is, a little.

"Or I could run to the corner store and get you a pie?"

"Kuro, stop," Kenma says softly, staring at the wall.

He isn't unwound yet, but he feels a duty to thank Kuroo, somehow. If he uses his brain, he can imagine what he must be feeling right about now. It's not like Kuroo doesn't know the way Kenma works, the things he needs on days like this. They understand each other. It goes both ways.

"Okay." Kuroo sighs, putting one hand behind his head to grip the back of his neck. "You know... I'm really sorry. I feel terrible about this."

"I know."

Feeling on the spot, Kenma shifts around where he's laying. Their cat chirps quietly at him when he does. They both stare at her, but she only goes back to making a loaf out of herself, and settles in for what must be a nap. Then, finally, they look at each other instead.

"I also know you didn't mean to," Kenma offers. "I'll let you know. If there's something."

The explosion of relief that washes over Kuroo's face then is enough to make him feel more at ease, too.

"You want to be in here a little longer?" he asks, hand sliding close on the bedsheets to brush Kenma's. 

"Yeah."

Kuroo loosely knits their fingers together.

"Alone, right?"

"Yeah...."

"That's okay. Is it all right if I bring you dinner a bit later?"

Kenma nods. Simultaneously, he almost wants to shake his head. He knew dinner would come into it somewhere. Kuroo is always getting after him to not skip meals, and sure enough, even on a day like this, he's being comfortingly consistent. It's kind of nice. Kind of exasperating.

"Good, that's what I'll do then."

Kuroo backs himself off the bed, standing next to it. Kenma looks at him directly.

He won't say it's looking good, but things are looking like he might just survive the night. At least a small part of the credit belongs to Kuroo. He only wishes he knew how to say that better, but Kenma knows himself better. Even on the best days, he's not a wordsmith. His thoughts might be complex, but what comes out of his mouth usually isn't too sentimental. Somehow though, it's never been a problem between them.

"Kuro... thanks."

He receives a genuine smile in return.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @kilzom's request via Tumblr. You can find my blog [here](http://www.risquetendencies.tumblr.com/).


End file.
